Drabbles
by Anoyo
Summary: A few drabbles of the FMA genre. Sometimes contain shounenai, angst, fluff, violence, or adult language. Generally RoyEd, HughesRoy, or Ed or Roycentric.
1. Ed Introspective Angst

FMA belongs to someone other than me. I do not claim it. Thanks.

This was a challenge fic written for one of my friends. Just a bit of Ed angst.

At the end of the day, as the brain winds down, down, down through all remaining thoughts of the day, vague ideas become more definite and anxiety finds itself a foothold.

As the brain reviews all the day's actions, reactions, and purposes, it's hard to feel exactly the same as you did during the actual events. There's no adrenaline rush, no spur-of-the-moment thinking, no life or death situations that needs resolutions now, there's only retrospect. The rational mind looks over everything you did, critiquing and picking, destroying and rebuilding. Other choices -- better choices -- become more apparent and you're forced to mentally kick yourself over the folly of a choice you made.

But the mind doesn't linger long on inconsequential things. It only has so long to pick through the day, and certain things are more important than others. Such as the point of the day; what did you try to get done? How terrible did you do? For, in the mind, you could do nothing but terribly.

Your brain asks you if what you did was worth what you paid; if the end really did justify the means. And the brain usually decides against you. The brain thinks you're an idiot.

Ed can't not contemplate what he did during the day -- as, in a general rule, his days tend to contain many pivotal points -- before he goes to bed at night. His mind points out all his mistakes, flaws, and tramples him into the dirt.

He knows that his goal is a good one -- his brain even agrees. It's his means that his mind pokes, prods, and tears to shreds. Sometimes he even agrees with his mind.

But he can't. He knows his road is chosen. He knows he can't undo what's already been set in motion. He just has to sit, pray, and hope to God that the choice he made was the right one.

Then he remembers he doesn't believe in God.

Ed's nights are always restless.


	2. HughesRoy Angst

I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Don't even pretend to. Thanks.

Challenge fic for a friend of mine. Hughes/Roy pairing, with a bit of angst.

Signing his name to yet another document, this describing the usage of water plants in battle, Roy disturbed the old, faded photograph that had been his constant companion for years. The movement of the photo caused the light from above to hit it more directly, reflecting back into Roy's eyes and hiding the faces in light.

As Roy reached out to fix it, his paused, lifting the picture off the sleek, wooden surface and allowed a small, sad, memory-laden smile to cross his face.

Hughes had loved his family -- almost obsessively so. His livelihood had depended on them beyond anything else, even food, water, or clothes on his back. His husbandly and paternal love mirrored his true character: he couldn't do anything half-hearted, without that signature "heave ho!" emblazoned into every fiber of his being. He did what he had to in order to get things done right, efficiently, and to the greatest outward benefit.

This exuberance flooded into his friendship and motivation, pushing him forward -- ever forward -- and into the great beyond.

Perhaps this, as well as an obvious charm, charisma, and aesthetic appeal, was what had fueled Roy's love of the man.

It had begun as friendship -- begrudging at that -- and had risen itself ever so slowly to a deep, true love from the heart. For a man determined not only to change the world, but to move through the shadows and the depths in order to do it, Roy had spared little time for his "infatuation," and he'd lost his love to someone else.

But as anyone torn by true love can say, there is no greater pleasure than to see the object of your pure and true affections happy. Happy with you or without you: it doesn't matter.

Hughes was a happy man when he died, perhaps with his only lingering regret being the unsuccessful deliverance of his information. But he had been happy with his wife, and with his daughter. And Roy knew that he was happy with them still, watching their progress, and watching his own.

And while not a religious man, Roy Mustang prayed with all his heart that he had earned that eye of affection.

368 words.


End file.
